


Vote Wayne for Mayor

by downhill_tumble



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Politics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9065110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downhill_tumble/pseuds/downhill_tumble
Summary: Jason doesn't expect his first job after law school to be helping Bruce Wayne with his mayoral campaign, but Tim Drake is a hard man to say no to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a secret santa gift for [shipping-the-mutants](http://www.shipping-the-mutants.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> This...was not the story I originally started writing. It got away from me somewhere. Hopefully it still includes enough angst and awkward Jason to satisfy.

"I don't think Cobblepot realizes who he’s really messing with here," Tam was saying as Jason walked in, gulping down his coffee in the vain hope it would help stave off the headache he could already feel building. He glanced over at Tim's office where he could see Tam and Steph sitting next to each other on Tim's desk looking intently at a newspaper Tam had clutched in her hands.

"I mean sure, Bruce is probably only going to call him an asshole and make sure he gets taken off the guest list of all the major society parties, but it's Tim he actually needs to worry about. He's not above pulling some House of Cards level shit if he’s pissed off enough," Tam continued.

Steph snorted, shaking her head. "Please, after this Tim's gonna go totally Cersi Lanister on his ass."

"He's going to desperately cling to power at the cost of everyone he loves?" Jason asked, leaning against the open doorway. The girls looked up, startled. Steph rolled her eyes at him.

"I meant more along the lines of smugly sipping wine while watching his enemies literally burn," she scoffed.

Now it was Jason's turn to roll his eyes. "Tim's not going to set anyone on fire."

"Don't speak too soon," Tam said as she handed over the newspaper.

WAYNE DAUGHTER MAY HAVE TIES TO THE YAKUZA the headline boldly declared.

"Christ," Jason groaned. "Tim may not set anyone on fire, but Cass sure as hell will."

“Do they not know that Cass is chinese?” Steph asked. She had pulled out her phone and was typing something into it. “Does that make this more or less racist?”

“Has anyone talked to Tim yet?” Jason asked. He skimmed through the article but it was all coy insinuations and nothing of actual substance. Not that that was going to stop everyone from taking this story and running with it. Dammit, now _Jason_ wanted to set someone on fire.

“Not it,” Steph replied. Jason glanced at Tam but she just shook her head. “Fuck it, alright, I’m going to go grab Barbara and figure out the statement we’ll give about this then take it to Tim. Tam please call him and let him know we’re on this.” He groaned, rubbing at his temples. So much for staving off that headache. “And someone please tell Bruce not to talk to anyone until we’ve got the statement ready for him.”

Steph waved her phone at him. “Already done. Brucie has been told to sit tight and keep his mouth shut until we tell him otherwise. I’m thinking we should just keep him out of sight until the rally tonight.”

Tam snorted. “Here’s hoping he’ll actually follow orders.”

“Not likely,” Jason said grimly.

It was going to be a long day.

****

Six months ago Jason had opened the front door of his crappy one bedroom apartment - hungover and bleary-eyed - and met Timothy Drake-Wayne for the first time.

“Hello Mr. Todd,” said what Jason was hoping was only a hallucination and not the CFO of _Wayne fucking Enterprises_ standing at his doorway. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

“Um,” Jason replied. He desperately wished he had thought to put on a shirt before answering the door.

“I have an opportunity I was hoping to discuss with you,” the unfortunately not a hallucination explained. “May I come inside?” His expression and tone were blandly professional but there was something about his eyes that made Jason think he was being laughed at a little. That more than anything else broke Jason out of his stupor.

With a start, Jason stepped back, swallowing nervously before offering, “Yeah, sure, come on in.”

At least his apartment was clean. Jason led the way towards what passed as his living room and wondered if there was a non-awkward way for him to go grab a shirt.

“Would you like something to drink, Mr. ...uh Wayne?” Jason asked.

“Tim is fine,” Tim replied. “And no thank you.”

Tim took the couch while Jason dragged a chair around to face him. They sat in silence for a moment and Jason did his best not to sweat too obviously while Tim watched him. It really didn’t help that Tim was the epitome of upper class Gotham - attractive, well dressed, face perfectly blank and yet still somehow giving off an air of judgement. Jason cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. He’d been dealing with people like this for years now, he could handle this, whatever it was.

“Jason, may I call you Jason?” Tim asked. He paused long enough for Jason to realize the question hadn’t been rhetorical and nod his permission. “Jason, how much do you know about Gotham’s politics?”

Jason blinked but otherwise managed to keep a straight face despite his surprise. Thank god one of the first things you learned at Harvard was a good poker face. “Not much beyond what gets reported in the papers. It’s not something I’ve felt the need to take a particular interest in these last few years.”

“No I suppose it wouldn’t have mattered much to you down in Boston,” Tim agreed. “I don’t know if you’re aware that Mayor Hill isn’t running for reelection this year. Instead he’s giving his support to a man named Oswald Cobblepot to succeed him.”

“I’ve heard of Cobblepot,” Jason said, keeping his face and voice still carefully neutral. “Used to be old money till his parents fell on hard times. Oswald seems to have bounced back ok though. Owns a lot of the clubs downtown and some upscale restaurants.” He also had a hand in most of Gotham’s drug trade or at least he had a decade ago. Jason didn’t really want to explain how he knew that though.

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but I think we both know he deals in some other business that makes him...less than suitable as a mayoral candidate. It’s not something easily proven however so our best option seems to be putting forward another candidate that can beat him despite Mayor Hill’s support.”

Jason frowned. This was definitely a conversation he should be wearing a shirt for. “Did you have a candidate in mind?”

Tim smiled, small but real, lighting up his eyes and making him look years younger. “Of course. Jason, how would you like to help me get Bruce Wayne elected as Gotham’s next mayor?”

****

“Have you looked over the statement yet?” Jason half yelled into his phone. Dammit, why was it so loud in here? He moved a little further back stage, but he could still hear Steph and Dick laughing loudly and Damian demanding they shut up and help him blow up these balloons already.

“Yeah it looks good, very neutral, very polite,” Tim replied.

Jason rolled his eyes. “I thought we were trying to be the non-asshole candidate. You were the one who said we shouldn’t sink to Cobblepot’s level.”

“Well the asshole just made a racist attack on my sister so I think we can do a little better than neutral and polite, Jason.” Tim snapped. Jason heard him sigh and could picture clearly what Tim must look like - hunched over with his elbows on his desk, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose while the other held his phone against his ear. “Look can you come back to the office? We need to change Bruce’s speech for tonight. Cobblepot’s pulled a lot of shit but this is where we draw the line. I’m not letting him get away with this. Not when he’s going after Cass.”

“Yeah alright,” Jason agreed. Tim was right, Cass hadn’t deserved to get dragged into this. “I’ll head back now.”

He hung up the phone and made his way back onto the stage. Steph and Dick were filling the last of the balloons with helium while Damian sullenly tied bundles of balloons together before handing them off to another volunteer to be placed around the auditorium. More volunteers were putting things up around the stage, all chattering loudly to each other. Jason sighed and walked over to Steph instead of trying to shout at her.

“Hey,” he said. Steph and Dick both stopped and turned toward him. “Tim wants me back at the office so I’m gonna call a cab. You guys good here?”

Steph shrugged. “The rally isn’t till 6, we’ll have everything set up by then.”

Dick waved another volunteer over and handed her his box of uninflated balloons. “I need to head into work anyways, come on I’ll give you a ride.”

Jason eyed him warily but didn’t argue. Of all the Wayne kids, Dick was arguably the most well known. He’d been Gotham’s darling since Bruce first adopted him after his parent’s tragic accident, but he’d become _truly_ famous after winning his first gold medal at the ripe old age of 16. He’d won a few more of those before apparently deciding he’d had enough of being an Olympic gymnastics champion and became a cop instead. Jason had spent most of his life hearing stories about Dick Grayson but even after spending months working with him on his adoptive father’s campaign Jason didn’t really think he knew him at all. He was pretty sure very few people did.

Jason followed Dick to his car and got into the passenger seat without a word. They drove in silence for a moment before DIck casually asked, “So what does Tim need you for?”

“He wants to change up the speech,” Jason replied. He turned to watch out the window and tried to ignore the way Dick kept throwing glances at him.

“Because of Cass?” Dick asked. He sounded sad but, more than that, he sounded tired. Jason felt a pang of sympathy for him; Dick was probably all too used to this sort of media attention.

“Yeah. Tim wants to make a stand, make it clear Cobblepot’s crossed a line.”

“He has crossed a line,” Dick said firmly, almost angrily.

Jason turned to look at him. “I know.”

Dick’s hands clenched around the steering wheel for a moment before relaxing. Neither of them spoke until they were pulling up in front of the office building Bruce was renting space for the campaign in - Tim had insisted that running the campaign out of Wayne Enterprises would look like a conflict of interest and trying to run it out of Wayne Manor just wasn’t feasible. Dick parked the car and Jason started to climb out.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said as he opened the door.

“Jason, wait.”

Jason settled back into the seat.

“We all talked about this before Bruce decided to run for mayor, we knew what we were getting into and we knew something like this might happen. We were prepared to deal with it. But Cobblepot is making up lies and we can’t let him think he can get away with stuff like this because it’s only going to escalate.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Dick,” Jason snapped, cutting him off. “I know that. I agree with you. I agree with Tim. Honestly, I wish we could all go knock on Cobblepot’s door and take turns punching him in the face. We need to draw the line because you’re right: Cobblepot will escalate and next thing you know there’s gonna be a story in the paper about how Damian is secretly a member of ISIS and people are gonna eat that shit up because a lot of them love drama too much to care that it’s based in lies and blatant racism.”

“Then why are you hesitating?” Dick asked. “Why wasn’t this the first thing you suggested instead of that bullshit statement you and Barbara put together?”

Jason sighed and tilted his head back against the headrest. “Because I want Bruce to win. We can’t prove Cobblepot planted that story and there’s a good chance it’s going to look like _we_ are the one’s trying to pick a fight instead of the other way around. Our lead over Cobblepot isn’t as strong as it should be and I just don’t want us losing any points right now. I’m just...worried.” He closed his eyes and quietly repeated, “I want Bruce to win.”

“Okay,” Dick said.

Jason opened his eyes and turned his head to look at him. Dick stared back at him calmly.

“Okay,” Jason said. He opened the door and got out of the car.

****

The first time Jason met Bruce Wayne he hadn’t recognized him. To be fair he hadn’t exactly looked like himself at the time - he’d been wearing casual clothes and sporting slightly too long hair and a full beard. He’d just returned from spending six months working with some charity in India, but Jason hadn’t known that at the time. Jason had been sixteen and all of his focus had been on making a good impression in his interview with the Wayne Foundation Scholarship Program.

He was a little early for his interview so he was standing in the hallway trying to take deep breaths and get his hands to stop shaking before he went in to check in with the receptionist.

“You alright kid?”

Jason turned to find a strange man watching him, looking concerned. He wasn’t wearing a suit so he probably wasn’t an employee. Unless he was one of the scientists, they might have a more casual dress code and Jason knew there were some labs in this building though he wasn’t sure what floor they were on.

“I’m fine,” Jason told him.

The man glanced towards the end of the hallway where the door to Wayne Foundation office was then turned back to Jason. “Let me guess, you’re here to interview for a scholarship?”

Jason nodded. “I’m early so I thought I’d try to...settle my nerves a little before I went in.”

The man smiled. “Probably a lot easier to do out here than sitting in a chair in there while the receptionist pretends not to be watching you.”

Jason snorted and smiled back. “Yeah that’s what I figured.”

Jason waited for the man to ask why his parents weren’t with him, tensing up again in anticipation. He hated being asked about his parents, never really knew what to say, how to talk around the fact that his mother was dead and his father was in prison and all the foster families he kept getting stuck in didn’t care too much about him past making sure he came home every night. But the man didn’t ask about his parents. Instead, he leaned against the wall opposite of Jason and crossed his arms, studying him.

“So if you get the scholarship do you know what you want to do with it?” the man asked. “What you actually want to study?”

“I want to be a lawyer,” Jason told him.

The man looked surprised. “Really?”

Jason bristled. “I can get into law school.”

The man shook his head and gave him an amused look. “I don’t doubt it. I’m sure your grades and test scores are excellent if you’re even being considered for a scholarship. What kind of lawyer do you want to be?”

Jason frowned, ducking his head and staring down at the floor. “I don’t know. Maybe criminal. Or maybe corporate.” He scuffed his shoe against the carpet for a moment before continuing, “I had this idea that it might be cool to help people getting screwed over by their landlords or help out small businesses. Stuff like that.”

“You want to help look out for the little guy, huh?”

Jason looked back up to find the man smiling at him. “Well someone has to,” he replied.

The man glanced down at his watch and sighed. “I have to go. Good luck with your interview, kid.”

They shook hands and Jason watched him walk away, figuring he’d never see him again.

A month later Jason came in for his second interview and was informed he’d been accepted for the scholarship.

“Just wait here one moment,” the interviewer told him after breaking the news. “Mr. Wayne wanted to come down and congratulate you himself.”

That of course was when Bruce Wayne walked in, this time without the beard and wearing a suit, and smiled at him.

“Congratulations Jason,” he said, shaking Jason’s hand while Jason stared at him in speechless horror. “Let me know what law school you decide to go to. I’m a Princeton man myself, but I also have friends from Yale and Harvard who’d be happy to write you a recommendation.”

****

Tim was sitting at his desk glaring at his computer when Jason walked in.

“Come here,” Tim said. “I need you to work your word magic on this.”

Jason grinned. “My word magic?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Oh shut up, you’re the one who minored in English Lit. All I studied was business and computer science.”

Jason pulled a chair over so he could sit next to him. “Clearly a waste of a college education,” he said as he sat down.

Tim smirked at him before turning back towards the computer screen. “Help me find a subtle way to slip in “Cobblepot is a racist asshole who needs to stop taking cheap shots at my family” without distracting too much from our message.”

Jason took the mouse and scrolled down to about halfway through the speech. “Here, right after the bit about building a stronger community. Have him talk a little about the importance of family and how much strength he draws from his and that’s why it hurts so much to see them being attacked, especially his little girl who’s already suffered so much over the years. Then he says how truly deplorable he finds it when these attacks are based in ignorance and racism, something he thinks most Gothamites have suffered with enough and how it hurts everyone when the media continues to perpetuate stories like this. There should be a pretty high percentage of lower-income minorities in the crowd tonight so that’ll play well. And you know what, have Bruce say “my little princess”, the media always eats it up when he calls Cass that.”

“This isn’t exactly calling Cobblepot out for his shit,” Tim pointed out, voice hard.

Jason glared at him. “You know that’s a bad play. Cobblepot’s name isn’t publically connected to this story and if we go after him we lose the moral high ground.”

“It’s not like you to back down from a bully,” Tim accused.

Jason jerked back, feeling like he’s been slapped. His hands were trembling; he pulled them into his lap and clenched them tightly together.

“Fuck,” Tim whispered. He bit his lip and Jason hated that he could still find that attractive. “I’m sorry Jason, you didn’t deserve that.” He took a deep breath then softly continued, “It was my idea for Bruce to run. I knew it would be hard but I didn’t think it would be like _this_. I don’t know, somehow I thought if anyone would be getting attacked other than Bruce it would be me, but instead it’s Dick and Cass and I’m sure they’ll start in on Damian any minute now. And it’s just...it’s just not fair.”

Jason started to lift his hand to give Tim’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but he quickly aborted the movement. Somehow he kept forgetting that he and Tim didn’t touch anymore.

“Look, political races are ugly and mean and they always have been,” Jason told him. “Because at the end of the day they’re just really expensive popularity contests. And that’s why Cobblepot is doing this: because he knows Bruce has got him beat in funds _and_ popularity. Our lead over him might not be as strong as we’d like but it has been steadily growing despite Mayor Hill continuing to support him. He’s going to keep taking cheap shots at us because he knows that getting us to do something stupid in response is the only chance he has to win this thing.”

“Yeah,” Tim said. He rubbed a hand over his face. “You’d think I’d be used to how selfish and petty people can be by now.”

There was really nothing for Jason to say to that. “We need to get this speech typed up pretty soon if Bruce is going to have time to go over it before the rally,” Jason reminded him. Tim nodded and put his hands on the keyboard.

“Jason,” he said softly.

Jason turned his head and for a moment their faces were far too close. Jason could count Tim’s eyelashes, could see the little flecks of gray in Tim’s blue eyes.

“What?” Jason asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Tim flushed and turned his head away. “Nothing,” he said. “Just tell me what I should type.”

****

Jason had gone to plenty of fundraising events for the campaign since signing on, but he wasn’t expecting it when about five months in Tim handed him an invitation for a dinner being hosted by one of their donors.

“This says black tie,” Jason said, frowning at the invitation. “Am I going have to rent a tux?”

“Rent?” Tim actually wrinkled his nose. He managed to seem almost like a normal guy most of the time then he would do things like this and remind Jason what a snooty little rich boy he really was. Jason probably shouldn’t find it as cute as he did.

“We’ll buy you a tux. You should probably have one on hand anyways, I doubt this is the last black tie event you’ll have to attend,” Tim said. He pulled out his cellphone and started typing something. “You can borrow the black card. I’m having Tam go with you to help you pick out a tux. She’ll know what you should get.”

Jason tried not to bristle as Tim handed over his credit card. If Tim was going to insist on Jason dressing up all fancy it was only right that he pay for it. And having Tam come with him was probably a good idea, it wasn’t like Jason knew anything about tuxes.

Which was how Jason ended up showing up to the dinner wearing an obnoxiously expensive tux. At least he looked good in it, though he kept getting distracted by how the new shoes Tam had made him get still pinched a little.

Tim’s eyes actually went a little wide when he saw him. “Um, wow,” Tim stuttered out as Jason walked over to him. Jason smirked and tried not to puff out his chest too obviously.

“I look great right?” Jason held his arms out, letting Tim get a good look. “Very James Bond. Tam’s got good taste.”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “I’ll have to make sure to thank her.”

“You look good too,” Jason assured him. And he did, his tux was probably even more obnoxiously expensive than Jason’s and it fit him perfectly. But he didn’t look quite as good as he had a few days ago when he’d come into the office wearing an old Princeton sweatshirt that had almost certainly been Bruce’s considering it was roughly three sizes too big for him. His hair had been soft and unstyled for once and Jason had wanted to kiss him so bad it was almost a physical ache.

Tim gave him his patented ‘don’t bullshit me’ stare. “Yeah, sure.” He turned and started walking, motioning for Jason to follow. “Come on, there’s people I want you to meet.”

What followed was one of the most excruciating evenings of Jason’s life. It started out alright: Tim introduced him to various people, they made polite but boring small talk, and then they moved on to the next group. But somewhere along the way Jason found himself being introduced as “one of the Wayne Foundation Scholarship Program’s greatest triumphs. Did you know he graduated first in his class at Harvard Law?” and that’s when things started to go downhill. Suddenly he was surrounded by rich people simpering at him about how amazing it was that he had managed to overcome his circumstances and achieved so much. They all stared at him like he was a dog that had been trained to stand on its hind legs and speak - living proof of the miracles that Wayne money could bring about.

Jason barely touched his food when they finally sat down for dinner. He sat at his table numbly and listened to Bruce give a speech Jason had written, watched as the rest of guests laughed at jokes Jason had come up with, and barely noticed as Tim drank way too much champagne while sitting in the chair beside him.

Dinner felt like it dragged on forever but it eventually it ended and Jason was free to wander off into a deserted hallway and just breathe for a moment. Somehow he wasn’t surprised when Tim wandered into the same hallway five minutes later.

“I was looking for you.” Tim walked over to him and Jason was almost impressed how steady he seemed. Only the brightness of his eyes and flush of his cheeks gave away just how drunk he was.

“You really do look good in that tux,” Tim told him, barely slurring his words at all.

Jason shrugged. “It’s a pretty good rich prick costume, but I guess it wasn’t quite good enough to fool all the other rich pricks out there. At least not after you started giving the game away.”

Tim frowned at him. “Jason,” he mumbled, leaning closer.

Jason rolled his eyes. “What?” he started to ask, except Tim pressed their lips together before he could finish.

It wasn’t much of a kiss, just the firm pressure of Tim’s lips against his, and for a moment Jason was too startled to actually react. Then Tim’s lips started to move against his own and Jason hastily shoved him away.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?” Jason hissed. Tim just blinked at him.

“Hey Tim, you over here?”

Jason turned just in time to see Dick freeze at the sight of them. In some small corner of his brain Jason couldn’t help but notice that Dick’s tux was probably far cheaper than his own and yet Dick looked better in it than Jason could ever hope to.

“Your brother’s drunk,” Jason told him. “You should probably take him home.”

He didn’t look back at Tim once as he walked away.

****

Jason watched Bruce’s speech from backstage, trying to gauge the audience’s reaction. They cheered in all the right places and the applause at the end seemed satisfyingly enthusiastic. Probably a success then, though he’d have to see what the pundits had to say about it on the news later tonight.

“You were right about the “my little princess” thing,” Tim commented, coming to stand next to him. “Pretty sure I saw the reporter from channel 9 actually go misty-eyed when he said that.”

“They like the fairytale reference. Lets them think of her as the sweet little princess that Bruce rescued from her big, bad dragon.”

“See,” Tim said, clearly amused. “I say something like that and I’m an asshole, but you say it and it’s a clever political maneuver.”

Jason snorted. “That’s because you’re a rich, powerful businessman and I’m a street kid from crime alley that got a few lucky breaks. When I make a “clever political maneuver” I’m almost certainly punching up, but you do it and there’s a good chance you’re punching down.”

Tim was silent after that. Jason forced himself to keep watching Bruce shake hands and talk to people who’d come up to the stage.

“I’d never thought of it that way before,” Tim finally said.

Jason had to look at him then. Tim’s expression was carefully blank, but there was something cautious about his gaze - almost uncertain.

“Of course you haven’t,” Jason replied. “You grew up rich. That doesn’t mean you don’t care or that you’ve never suffered. Just means you’ve spent your whole life seeing things from a different perspective than most people. And maybe it wasn’t always the best perspective to see certain things from.”

Tim gazed back at him steadily for a long moment.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever really said this to you before, but I’m really glad you agreed to help out with the campaign,” Tim told him.

Jason shrugged, turning away from the sincerity in Tim’s voice. “It’s not like I’m not getting paid. Mostly I just don’t want an honest to god criminal running Gotham. You’re the one who thinks you and Bruce are actually going to make some changes for good around here. And maybe you will. I don’t mind doing what I can to make sure you guys at least get the chance.”

Neither of them said anything else after that, just watched in silence as Bruce talked to a group of teenagers about ways they could assist their community.

****

Bruce won.

Of course he won. Cobblepot put up a hell of a fight but no one was surprised when the election results were announced. Tim had brought in cases of champagne in advance and Steph had started popping bottles almost before the reporter had finished speaking.

It hadn’t taken long for the party to go from joyous celebration to drunken mess and Jason had made his escape around the time Dick climbed onto a table to start dancing amidst cheers and Damian’s shouts for him to get down before he fell and broke his neck.

Jason climbed out of one of the back windows and onto an overhang, lying back against the shingles and wishing for a moment that he hadn’t quit smoking all those years ago. A cigarette would be pretty nice right about now.

There was a creak behind him and Jason twisted to look back as Cass climbed easily through the window and out onto the overhang beside him. She dropped down gracefully beside him, sitting up perfectly straight with her legs tucked neatly beneath her. No one had had to tell Jason that Cassandra Wayne was a prima donna ballerina - everything about the way she moved, the way she held herself even when perfectly still had told him that fact already.

“Did you need a break from the craziness in there too or were you looking for me?” Jason asked.

Cass smiled at him. “Both.”

Jason waited, but she didn’t say anything else. “When are you heading back to New York?” he asked her.

“Tomorrow.” She paused then slyly added, “I need to go check in with my Yakuza contacts.”

Jason laughed. “Well tell them I say hi.”

“And you?” Cass asked. “What will you be doing now that all of this is finally over? Tim told me that the D.A.’s office offered you a job.”

Jason frowned. “How does he know about that?” He shook his head and continued before she could answer. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m not taking the job.”

“You have other plans?”

“Yeah,” Jason told her. “A couple of my friends from Harvard are moving down here. We’re going to start our own firm down near crime alley. See if we can’t help some of the people who really need it.”

“If anyone can, it would be you,” Cass said and Jason felt warmed by the confidence in her voice.

They stared up at the handful of stars that managed to shine in Gotham’s night sky for a long, peaceful moment.   

“You know that Bruce is planning to invite you to Thanksgiving.”

Jason blinked, turning to look back at Cass. She was watching him with an amused little smile.

“Wait, for real?” Jason asked. Cass nodded. “He does realize I’m a little old to try adopting, right?”

Cass’ smile widened. “He paid for you to go to college _and_ law school even after you betrayed him by going to Harvard instead of Princeton. Pretty sure you’ve already been adopted.”

“So you’re saying I’m stuck with you guys,” Jason joked.

“Are you saying you mind?” Cass teased.

Jason looked at where her sweater had shifted to bare her shoulder so that her scars peaked out. He knew those scars covered her entire back and most of her arms - a stark reminder of her dark past. A reminder that she regularly bared for the world to see whenever she climbed onto a stage and danced under bright spotlights.

He thought of Dick who had quit gymnastics while still in his prime so he could come back to Gotham and enter the police academy. Who now insisted on living off his cop’s salary even though he could easily have lived off of sponsorships or Bruce’s money and never wanted for anything. Who always had a ready smile for anyone who needed it.

He thought of Damian who, despite being eighteen and technically an adult, was the absolute brattiest child Jason had ever met. But who also regularly volunteered at animal shelters and who had personally helped get permission for a pitbull sanctuary to be built just outside of Gotham city limits.

He thought of Bruce who had helped give Jason a chance to do anything he wanted in life. Who had believed in Jason since he was sixteen and only just starting to figure out who he was and what he wanted to do. Who had spent the last eight months using Jason’s speeches and taking Jason’s advice without question while running for office and who had, less than an hour ago, thanked Jason for being integral to getting him elected.

He thought of Tim who had lost both his parents at fourteen and who had become the CFO of a Fortune 500 company at twenty-two. Who could be as casually cruel as he was casually kind. Who helped run multiple charities and took time out of his insane schedule to volunteer with at-risk teens. Who had shown up at Jason’s door and dragged him into this crazy mess in the first place. And who Jason still had trouble dragging his eyes away from whenever they were in the same room.

No, Jason didn’t really mind being stuck with the lot of them.

****

Jason came in early the next morning to clear out the last of his things. He’d never been in the offices when no one else was there before and it didn’t take long for the silence to stop being a welcome change and start being eerie. Eventually he turned on a radio just so there’d be some noise.

“You know, usually you’re the one shouting at Steph to turn the radio _off_ ,” Tim pointed out.

Jason startled, almost dropping the box of files he was holding. Tim rushed forward to help him steady it.

“Sorry,” Tim apologized. “I thought you heard me come in.”

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked, heart still beating wildly.

“Same as you, just wanted to get some of my stuff out of here.” Tim watched as Jason set the box on a desk. “Cass told me you’re starting your own firm.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at him. “You know you can just ask me about things yourself, you don’t have to send in agents to get the information covertly.”

Tim scowled and crossed his arms. “I didn’t tell her to ask you anything.” He rolled his eyes when Jason’s only response was to raise his eyebrows in disbelief. “Whatever.” He walked over to Jason’s desk. “Is one of the friends you’re starting your firm with the guy in your picture?”

Jason glanced over at the picture in question - a snapshot of Roy and Lian at the beach, both of them grinning and waving cheerfully at the camera.

“Yeah,” Jason replied. “And the other friend’s his girlfriend.”

“Oh,” Tim said, clearly surprised. “Well, that’s nice.”

Jason ducked his head to hide his smile. “Yeah, it is.”

Tim glanced back at him before pointedly returning his gaze to Jason’s desk. “You know, if there’s anything you ever need, I can, I mean Bruce or Wayne Enterprises, we’d always be happy to help.”

Jason chuckled. “Pretty sure I owe Bruce more than enough already.”

That got Tim to look back up at him. “You don’t think helping him become mayor has made things even?”

“Well maybe we can call things even for my bachelors,” Jason joked, “but I’m pretty sure I still owe him for law school at least.”

“I’m pretty sure Bruce doesn’t think you owe him anything,” Tim said softly.

Jason raised his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure that’s not going to stop me from owing him,” he said firmly. He paused, realization hitting him. “Is that why you brought me on for his campaign? Because you knew I felt indebted to him?”

Tim shrugged, frowning. “I brought you on for a lot of reasons. You graduated top of your class at Harvard and you write amazing essays. You had a lot of skills the campaign could use.”

“I was also living proof of the kind of good Bruce Wayne could do for the more disadvantaged portions of Gotham’s population,” Jason guessed.

“Yes,” Tim admitted. He met Jason’s gaze firmly. “And yes I picked you because you felt indebted to Bruce. It made you more motivated to help him win.”

Jason shook his head. “You, buddy, are fucked up.”

Tim’s responding smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what my friends keep telling me.” He turned away and started towards his own office. “I should start getting my stuff together. Let me know if you want help taking stuff back to your place, I brought my car and there should be plenty of room,” he called over his shoulder.

“Hey Tim,” Jason called out. “You want to have dinner with me?”

Tim whirled back around, eyes wide. “What?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Jason repeated, biting back his grin.

Tim stood frozen as Jason walked over to stand in front of him. “I’d be paying so don’t expect anywhere too fancy,” Jason added, carefully settling his hands on Tim’s waist.

“That’s alright,” Tim said, still watching him with wide eyes. “I’ll eat anything.”

Jason smirked. “That a fact, rich boy?”

Tim’s expression turned equal parts sly and challenging. “I guess there’s only one way for you to find out.”

Tim was already pressing up to meet him when Jason leaned down to kiss him, his hands coming up to tangle in Jason’s hair.

It was a long time before Jason managed to pull away long enough to whisper, “It’s a date.”

Tim grinned and pulled him back down for another kiss.


End file.
